That summer went as had all the other summers of my short (five-years-old at this point) life. We had a summer home at the New Jersey Shore, and I had my usual fun, playing with my 'summer friends.' (As with most of my summer friends, I had two sets of friends: those at home, and those from the beach.) But there was always one major difference between my friends and me: I wore a 'regular boys' haircut,' while they all sported buzz cuts.

Needless to say, they teased me about it mercilessly, but Mother ruled my haircuts - and she was determined that my wavy hair would stay on my head- and NOT on some barbershop floor. When we left for our other house in Northern New Jersey, I said good-bye as always, figuring that I wouldn't see my summer friends again until the next summer - a lifetime for a small boy. Besides, I was now going to be starting a new phase in my life: I was going to start SCHOOL!!!!

The first day of school came soon enough (actually, it was only a couple of days after our annual return from the beach.) By now I'd reacquainted myself with my 'winter friends,' all of whom were growing out THEIR summer buzz cuts; and I, of course, was miserable because I didn't fit in with my much longer hair. (All my friends got their haircuts at Nick's Barber Shop, while I was condemned to go to Roy's, in the next town. ("He won't butcher all that beautiful hair of yours!")

I remember walking down the hall with my friends, when I spotted my beach friend Joe. I was thrilled to see him: I hadn't known he actually must have lived in the same North Jersey town! He asked me what I was doing after school. and I replied that I wasn't doing anything. He asked me if I wanted to come over to his house to play; he'd had to get a haircut first, but we could go after that.

I replied: "SURE!!!!!!!"

It never occurred to me that Mother would be coming by to pick me up after school, for I was just too happy to see Joe. We quickly left by the East Door, which was designated for his side of town. (Mother was waiting, of course, by the West Door.) We then met his two older brothers, and headed for the 'forbidden' Nick's. Boy, was I excited!

The four of us headed into the shop, (located directly across the street from our school, P.S. #7) which was full. Joe's brothers got their haircut first, and then Joe (all got nice, short butches, of course.) I sat. And sat. And sat. Finally, a barber motioned for me to come. I obediently followed his instructions, and sat in the chair.

"Butch?" he asked.

"Sure," I replied.

I remember trembling violently as the clippers roared to life; and, in a few, short minutes ALL my hair lay in my lap, and I was enjoying every second!! All too soon, he was done, and I got the biggest thrill of my short life: getting to actually FEEL it!!!!! This little boy was in Heaven, I tell you!! But the bubble burst when I was asked to pay -I had no money!

"No problem!" the barber said, and he wrote a note to my mother, and had me put it in my pocket.

I'll never forget how happy I was that afternoon on the walk to Joe's house on Garden Avenue, and how we all kept rubbing my newly shorn head. We sure had fun playing that day, too. Until dinner: Joe's mother asked me to call mine: no answer. We called again: again; no answer. But on the third try, there WAS an answer: a policeman! Well, it seems that Mother thought I'd been KIDNAPPED, and immediately alerted the police, who were searching for me all over town!! My reunion with my parents was happy, although Mother screamed pretty loudly at the sight of my hairless head. (Secretly, I LOVED it: REVENGE!!)

I was forever forbidden to associate with Joe, or to EVER enter Nick's barbershop again. My parents sold that beach house that year, and bought another one in another town; Joe moved out of my school district, and I never saw him after that. And it was decreed that I was never, EVER, to get another short haircut after that. I obeyed the edict faithfully until I was 13, and bought my first set of home clippers, but that's another story.